a mite whimsical in the brainpan

Mar. 19th, 2012

I have been meaning to post more but could not really think of what, as I'm on a strictly limited allowance of Crazy Things My Cats Did posts. I have, however, recently rediscovered my love of reading (something I didn't have too much time for the past few years), so I've been devouring books like a Death Eater eating, uhm, death (or possibly treacle).

One of the things I have been reading about is climbing. I used to climb and used to love it but I've kind of grown too old and lazy to do it, and also, mountains are fucking terrifying. I mean, they're entirely awesome in every way but personally I'm done crawling all over them with a big neon-green sign reading "COME AND KILL ME" around my neck, you know?

Instead, I read about other climbers, which is great fun, very educational and very much less lethal.

So without further ado, let me present to you two mountaineering legends of the early 20th century and their Great Clandestine Gay Love Affair (As Totally Fabricated By Me):